


Wet Dream

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: Dean Smith thinks that tech support guy, Sam Wesson, is kinda weird. He's also kinda hot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first story for 2017, written for SMPC. Thanks to [theatregirl7299](theatregirl7299.livejournal.com) for beta and assistance!

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/firesign10/4507356/109084/109084_original.jpg)

Dean stares at the giant attractive guy riding in the elevator with him. His yellow polo signifies that he's tech support, but he's nattering at Dean about ghosts and vampires and other weird shit. Dean finally snaps at him and the man's face falls, his dimples vanishing behind a blank expression. Dean feels a twinge of disappointment at the loss; they'd looked like adorable dimples, and it isn't like the guy isn't one handsome son of a bitch. Dark hair, cheekbones like a Russian prince. And majorly built to boot—his thin polo stretches over muscular shoulders and skims across bulging pecs, punctuated by the peaks of tiny nipples. Dean kind of itches to touch them.

The elevator door opens, and Dean exits quickly to avoid more chatter. Tall Tech Guy follows, and Dean can hear his messenger bag slapping against his sturdy thighs. Dean sneaks a look and watches those long legs stride away. Dammit, of course he has a great ass too, even with those horrible khakis covering it. Dean has no luck.

It's been a long, stressful day at Sandover Bridge & Iron, and Dean decides to take a hot shower before his solitary, spartan dinner. He briefly entertains the thought of a cold beer, but decides he can't afford the carbs while he's doing his maple syrup/cayenne cleanse. Stripping off his Ralph Lauren shirt and Hilfiger tie, he flings them toward the hamper, not caring if they make it. He unzips his slacks and shimmies them down, following them with his boxers and socks. He eyes himself in the mirror, trying to see if the cleanse is helping him get rid of those last five pounds around his middle or not. He sighs and heads into the bathroom.

The hot water feels good as he steps into the shower. He's always glad he sprung for the two-shower head model. The water warms his skin as he rubs his face and pumps some body wash onto his loofah, rubbing it briskly to get the lather going. Juniper spice aroma fills the air, and he breathes it in deep, letting the pungent scent relax him.

He washes perfunctorily, and his mind wanders while his hands are busy. Dean's eyes drift closed and Tech Guy's image arises in his mind. Tech Guy smiles, and Dean unconsciously smiles back, happy to see the full promise of those dimples. They are as gorgeous as he'd hoped, and Tech Guy-- _Have we met? My name is Sam Wesson_ \--Sam's eyes are gorgeous too, a mix of blue, green, gold with surprisingly delicate dark brows arched over them.

_Suddenly Sam is naked. Dean doesn't even question where his clothes went, because naked Sam is incredible. So much skin spread all over great curves of muscle and lengths of bone. At 6'1”, Dean is no shrimp, but Sam has a good three inches over him and several pounds as well. Dean can't help looking down, and Jesus, Sam's dick is perfectly proportionate to the rest of his glorious body. Dean has always topped, never entertained the idea of bottoming, but it's more than an idea now, it's a need. Dean needs that long, meaty dick in his ass._

_He looks up and Sam is right there, kissing him. Dean's not a big kisser usually, it's too intimate and messy, but he likes what Sam's doing. Hot and wet, with lips sliding, tongue probing and fucking into Dean's mouth...yeah, this is good._

Dean's hands have slowed, and he's just idly swishing them around a bit as he gets lost in his fantasy. They swipe around his chest and over his nipples. He hums in approval and drops the loofah while he rubs his nipples again, drawing little sparks of pleasure from them. One hand continues to play with them while the other caresses his soft belly and scratches at the trail of ginger-blond hair down to his groin.

_Sam rubs Dean's tummy, and he clearly doesn't even care if Dean has rock-hard abs or not. Sam's hand is so large, it practically covers Dean's belly. Sam dips his head and nips at Dean's chest, flicking his tongue over Dean's hard nipples, sucking on one until Dean is arching his back in pleasure, hands scrabbling at Sam's shoulders, his head. Sam moves back up to kiss Dean some more, but keeps plucking at his taut buds. Dean's already hard, and he moans while he tries to rub his aching dick against the sharp cut of Sam's hip._

_“Not yet, sweetheart, I don't want this over so soon,” Sam murmurs in his ear, biting his lobe. Dean can get behind that idea, but some friction wouldn't be out of place._

Dean's shoulders lean against the shower wall while he thrusts his hips out into the air. Hissing in disappointment at the emptiness, he turns around and rests his forehead on the tile, bracing his hands on the wall. He drops his head back and rubs his chest against the tile, groaning at the cooler temperature and smooth texture on his inflamed nubs. His head drops forward again when he pushes his ass out, spreading his legs wide. Water cascades down his back, a generous rivulet finding its way down the crevice between his cheeks. The heat feels so good, like a wriggly tongue on his tender tissues.

_Sam kneels behind Dean, spreading his cheeks wide. Dean moans when Sam runs his tongue over his hole, poking at it and lapping across it. His hands span Dean's ass; one grips each globe firmly, squeezing and massaging while his tongue teases Dean mercilessly._

_“Knew you'd have a beautiful ass. Even in those stuffy dress slacks, I could see how full and ripe it is.” Sam stands up, kissing the back of Dean's neck and rutting that huge dick on his ass. “It's going to look so good with my dick in it.”_

_Dean shivers in anticipation, but bravado makes him gasp, “What makes you think I bottom?”_

_Sam chuckles, a dark, dirty sound. “You don't. I'm sure you always top. But you're going to bottom for me, because I know how bad you want this dick in you.” He kisses his way across Dean's shoulders. “Well? Am I right?”_

_“Yeah, yeah...fuck yeah, I do. Want you to fuck me.” Dean's breath feels short and his chest tight, he wants this so badly._

_“Your wish is my command, darlin'.” Sam pulls back from Dean a bit and he feels something thick and cool plop onto his hole. “Gotta slick things up a bit, don't want to hurt you,” Sam whispers, and Dean feels a long finger sliding into him, slicked up in the goo._

Dean squeezes the conditioner onto his hand and reaches behind himself. His dick is rock hard, and his hole feels achingly empty. He shoves one finger in quickly, pumps a dozen times before he stuffs another finger in and moans, rocking his hips side to side as he fucks himself. He's bracing himself against the wall with his other hand, and he wishes desperately that someone was there to give him a reach-around as his cock bobs in the air fruitlessly with every twitch of his hips.

_Sam's fingers are so long, Dean thinks they're going to tickle his tonsils. Instead they press on his prostate, making him stick his ass out all the more urgently. Sam's talking dirty to him in a voice gone deep and dark and rough, and Dean can only respond in gasps and moans. Finally Sam pulls his fingers out and Dean hears more conditioner blooping out of the bottle, knows Sam is slicking himself up._

_There it is, a blunt pressure on his hole. Dean bites his lip as Sam slowly pushes in, his hands anchoring on Dean's hips. Dean's mouth gasps open; he knows how tight a hole feels on his cock, but he had no idea how massive a cock would feel entering his hole. Despite Sam going slowly, Dean feels like that monster is going to split him in half. A whimper escapes his lips, and Sam rubs his back in comfort. “Hang on, you just gotta relax a little more and then it'll be good. It'll be everything you ever wanted.”_

_Dean nods. Even now, stretched beyond his expectation, it's good. He's filled and complete in a way he's never known or dreamed of before. If this is it, he'll be happy._

_Then it really gets good. Like, mind-blowingly good. Sam begins to pump, slowly at first, taking it easy on Dean's virgin ass, and Dean almost purrs. Every nerve in his body is attuned to that motion, that heavy pull and drag, again and again. It's getting faster now, and Dean's ready, he can take it, wants it as hard as Sam can give it. Dean arches his back, thrusts his butt out toward Sam, and is rewarded by that dark chuckle again. “Yeah, I thought so. You needed this. You sit up there pushing numbers and dollars around, bossing everyone around, and all the time you needed this. Needed_ me _. I got you, babe, I got you.”_

_Dean whines and Sam smacks one ass cheek. They moan in unison and Sam smacks it again, Dean's flesh quivering under his hand. Dean's cock is begging for attention, and he reaches down to grab himself, but Sam blocks his hand, puts it firmly back on the wall, and Dean understands. Sam wraps one large hand around Dean's straining dick and strokes it; it feels good, really good, but dammit, Sam's keeping the pressure light while Dean's craving some real friction. He wiggles his ass in demand only to hear Sam tsk at him. “Wait for it...” Dean whines and bucks, earning him another smack._

_“Hang on, baby, we're heading into the homestretch. Gonna give you all I got now—show me you can take it!” Sam pants the words out, tightening his grip on one of Dean's hips. Dean groans loudly as the pace quickens, Sam's hips driving in harder, faster, his balls slapping at Dean's in noisy accompaniment. Dean's fingers curl futilely against the shower tile when Sam's hand finally, finally grips tightly around his cock, pumping it in rhythm with Sam's powerful thrusts. Pleasure is ricocheting throughout Dean's body: his cock, his prostate, his skin, his goddamn toes. He's strung up between being fucked by Sam's magnificent dick and jerked by Sam's massive hand, and the pleasure inside him multiplies until he explodes with a cry. His cock sprays the wall, pulsing hard in Sam's fingers, as Sam croons approval and encouragement in his ear._

_No sooner does Dean catch his breath, shocks of bliss still zinging through him, than Sam shouts and comes as well, hips flexing as his dick empties itself into Dean's ass, Sam's hair brushing Dean's shoulders as he curls up in the spasm of his climax. Dean grinds back against him, squeezing his muscles in an effort to wring out as much pleasure for Sam as he can, and he's rewarded by another guttural moan from Sam as his hips shudder._

_“Knew you'd be so good,” Sam murmurs, kissing Dean's back softly. He pulls out gently—Dean can't help moaning anyway—and turns him around, enfolding him in those big arms and kissing him reverently. “We're meant to be together, Dean, wherever and whoever we are.”_

Dean's eyes are still closed as he slides down the wall and sits on the shower floor, lax and boneless after his orgasm. The water patters around and over him as he rides out the total relaxation of his release. After several minutes, he opens his eyes and sighs, crawling to turn the water off and reach for his towel, conveniently waiting on his Brookstone towel warmer. The terry fabric is perfectly toasty, and he swathes himself in it. It's luxurious, sure, but he'd trade it right now for the warmth of Sam's arms and body next to his.

Dean finishes drying off and pulls on a Gucci tracksuit before heading out to the kitchen for his salad. The beer in his fridge calls to him, and he decides fuck it, he can have a damn beer with the damn salad. It's not like he's eating bacon cheeseburgers all the time or anything. He pops the cap and takes a long pull, closing his eyes in enjoyment at the frosty snap.

_“We're meant to be together, Dean, wherever and whoever we are.”_

His eyes snap open. Wait...what?


End file.
